Westchester Ride Out ft. Looney Only 1 on the beat Lyrics

They try to tell me that I ain't ready Say that it's the wrong move

Well fuck what they fucking think Couldn't last a day in my damn shoes

I always Strive to be the best It's a problem if I fucking lose

I've been fucking up these beats Pussah Hoe , it's nothing new

I've been putting that shit on Sw and 102

I've been having gold teeth Had my first set back in high school

You ain't never live life if you ain't breaking the damn rules

My dick up in the windpipes She use no hands, she likes to drool

Mr. T, cause I pity the fool Can't trust these niggas, had to cut some loose

I ain't think I gave the boot Fresh out the cell, did seven days in the shoe I done lost my mind, nigga, way the fuck back

Got a thing for thick bitches arch your back Make it clap, On my Jeezy shit

Ho, you can find me in the fucking trap How the fuck you turn your back

I kept that shit a fucking stack Private jets, a hundred racks

Where I'm trying to be at Doing shows around the country

Freaky bitches in the lobby Get the hell from around me

If it ain't making money, that shit stank Smell too funny from the city where it's sunny

You ain't slick, don't creep up on me this 40, Glock got 50 shots

Pure chemistry the way I make it lock Masterchef, we cook and rock

This lil' Cuban with a bunch of Cubans in el fucking cuello

Los amigos son los feos Son sepientes, fuma, yerba , bebo Henny

Que hola y que pinga, vende peri I eat pussy On the edge, don't fucking push me

Yall sleep in the bed, she geek Got two phones feeling like I'm Kevin Gates

Making show my money straight On my wave like Max B

Free that nigga out the gate Let's eat, 5-5-6 is in the AR

This ain't no 223 This shit on blast from the past

Bunch of memories got my nigga tripping Watch me pistol whipping with this fucking microphone

Don't get it wrong, don't get it twisted I clutch the crome

Scared as fuck cause you home alone Two stacks in my styrofoam

Ain't scared, bitch, we get it on Shootout out in West Nam

First time seeing a brick, was way back In West Palm

Sitting in the crib, setting up traps Putting food up on these streets

So we could feed these fucking rats Had a feeling I'ma die

Paranoid, I watch my back